Lighthouse
by rissysaur
Summary: Everyone has a secret that they haven't shared with anyone before. Alfred F. Jones isn't the happy person he seems to be on the outside. When all hope seems to be lost for him, does he have a friend who will be able to save him in his time of need?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Somehow I always manage to find time in my life to write new stories instead of working on my current ones. But never fear, the next chapter of So Much For My Happy Ending should be coming out tomorrow! -crosses fingers- As for this story... um. Well, just to clear things up, it is NOT my headcanon that Alfred is suicidal or depressed or anything like that. I just felt that he worked best for this story because of all the characters I could use with him. Generally I see him as a very happy person :) Wow, it seems like I really don't know how to write happy stories, does it? Well, enjoy what I have of this so far and let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p>There was no point anymore.<p>

No one cared.

No one would care if he were gone.

So why not just make their lives better by taking himself out of them?

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut as he lay curled up in his bed. It couldn't be that hard, could it? There was plenty of stuff around the big house he could use. His parents never locked cabinets and his brother was always somewhere else. With somebody else. Unless their parents forced them to stick together, the brothers were hardly ever seen together. They had two completely different personalities.

Matthew was the quieter of the two, and Alfred was more rambunctious. Or so everyone thought.

Alfred was always Matthew's second choice to hang out with.

Alfred rarely had anyone.

So should he do it? Should he go on with his life, or should he just put himself out of his misery?

Should he continue to put up with the demands of others, the feeling of being alone, unwanted, and just a plain old nuisance?

He ignored the voice in the back of his head screaming at him to stop being so stupid, obviously some people cared about him.

What would Arthur think?

Alfred shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Sleep. He needed sleep.

Tomorrow, everything would be better.

Or so he hoped.

* * *

><p>"Yo, Alfred, do you have twenty bucks I could borrow? I'm going to the movies with Nikolai this weekend and I'm supposed to pay, but I'm totally broke. He'd definitely kill me if I showed up with no money." Mathias, the tall kid from Denmark slung an arm around Alfred's shoulder and flashed one of his infamous smiles that had all the ladies clinging to him. Everybody knew that he only had eyes for the Norwegian boy who seemed to hate him, though.<p>

"Uh, yeah, sure, of course," Alfred said, fishing for the wallet from his pocket. "Here." he put on a fake smile and handed his friend a crisp twenty-dollar bill. "Have fun, but not too much fun. I'm not gonna bail you out of jail if you do anything stupid." he winked and Mathias snickered.

"Man, you're a lifesaver. Oh, and I'll try to keep out of trouble," he said before saluting in farewell. "But no guarantees."

As soon as Mathias was gone, Alfred's smile faded.

Money. That was all his 'friend' wanted.

He sighed before shifting his backpack to his other shoulder and made his way to class.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Al! Did you do the calc homework that Zwingli assigned over the weekend?" Alfred turned around to see Gilbert catching up to him, red eyes gleaming.<p>

"Yeah, why?" he asked, tilting his head. Hopefully Gilbert only needed help with one of the problems.

"Can I copy it?" Of course.

"I guess so," Alfred muttered dejectedly, pulling the sheet out of his backpack. He could have easily refused Gilbert, but he knew that if he said no, Gilbert would never even make an attempt to talk to Alfred. Was being ignored better or worse than being cheated off of?

"Awesome! Not as awesome as me, of course, but still awesome! God, I hate when teachers assign homework over the weekend." And before Alfred could utter another word, Gilbert disappeared down a hallway and Alfred was alone again.

Used.

For the second time in one day.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned in the opposite way of where Gilbert had gone.

* * *

><p>"Jones, where is your homework?" Mr. Zwingli, the scary Swiss calculus teacher demanded as he passed Alfred's desk. Two hours later, and Gilbert hadn't given him his homework back. Oh, he was screwed.<p>

"I don't have it," Alfred sighed as Mr. Zwingli glared down at him.

"Sir," he added as a scowl appeared on his teacher's face.

It was said that the teacher kept several types of guns locked in his car (which just so happened to be a very large ATV). No one was stupid enough to find out if the rumor was true.

Alfred swallowed uncomfortably as many students began turning their heads to watch the scene.

"And why _not_, Mr. Jones?" Alfred suppressed a wince as he tried to come up with a good excuse before he had holes burned into his forehead with Mr. Zwingli's laser eyes. Sadly, he couldn't think of one.

"I forgot about it. I'm sorry; I'll have it next time. Sir." Mr. Zwingli continued to glare at Alfred for a minute with piercing green eyes before continuing down the rows for his homework check. When he was sure the teacher wasn't looking, Alfred cast a glance in Gilbert's direction, but conveniently, the other boy was busy staring at Alfred's homework and hastily copying down the answers as fast as he could before he had to explain to the math teacher why he didn't have his homework.

This time, Alfred really did wince, as he saw someone he considered to be his friend just using him and increasing the risk of getting the both of them into trouble.

And again, it wasn't the first time something like that had happened.

* * *

><p>Alfred threw his bag down on the carpeted floor of his bedroom and flopped onto his bed, burying his face in a soft pillow. He closed his eyes, trying to forget all the earlier events of the school day.<p>

Everyday was the same. Everyday, people would talk to him and pretend to be his friend just to get something out of him.

At first, Alfred hadn't minded, but as of late, he felt worthless. It had gone on for far too long. And he now realized that nobody wanted him for anything other than what he could give to them. Money. Homework answers. A second resort when there was no one else available. Like no one truly cared about him.

He was alone.

"Alfred, are you going to Francis's party this weekend?" Matthew, Alfred's twin brother, poked his head in Alfred's room.

Alfred looked up from his homework and put his pencil down.

"Nope, " he said, spinning around in his chair. "Wasn't invited." he propped his feet up on his desk. Another party he wasn't invited to.

"Oh," Matthew said awkwardly, not looking at his brother in the eyes. "Well, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you came with me," he said quietly, twirling one of the strings on his hoodie around his index finger.

"No can do, little bro," Alfred winked, putting on yet another one of his fake smiles. He knew that if he showed up at the party, he wouldn't be welcomed with open arms and excited smiles. More like frowns and whispered words behind hands. "I've got a big project due next week that I need to work on." Was it right to lie?

"Oh," Matthew averted his gaze back to the floor, not sure what to say. "Well, alright." he turned and headed down the hallway, and Alfred heard the click of the door shut after a few seconds.

He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and ran a hand through his already messy hair. Alfred had wanted to beg Matthew to stay with him, had hoped he would see through Alfred's fake happiness, his pleading eyes, answer his unspoken cry for help.

But like everyone else, Matthew was too busy worrying about his own problems to see how distraught Alfred was.

Like everyone else, he had failed to see how much Alfred needed him.

* * *

><p>Alfred decided to text Arthur to see if he wanted to study or watch a movie while Matthew was at the party. Assuming that he was available, of course, because Arthur seemed to be the only person who ever paid any attention to Alfred nowadays. And it might give Matthew some peace of mind if Alfred had someone to hang out with.<p>

Not literally, of course.

He shivered at the mere thought.

**Monday, 8:34 PM**

**To: Arthur is my bff**

**From: Alfred**

Heyyyy Artie! Wanna hang out saturday night and watch a movie or somethin?

**Monday, 8:40 PM**

**To: Alfred**

**From: Arthur is my bff**

Hello, Alfred. I'm sorry, but I will be attending Francis's party Saturday evening and will not be able to spend the evening with you like I do every almost weekend. Maybe you should consider going out into the outside world and making friends in your free time instead of letting your brain rot faster than a piece of fruit in the summer heat while you stare at the television screen. Have a nice night.

Alfred flinched inwardly at the harsh words that seemed to scream at him in the bright light of his cell phone. Arthur didn't mean it, did he?

**Monday, 8:43 PM**

**To: Arthur is my bff**

**From: Alfred**

Woooooow art thats kinda mean dont ya think? I even had to use a dictionary to look up half of those words! Nerd :P do YOU do anything in your spare time besides trying to come up with words that will confuse me? cuz youre doin a pretty bad job of it! and yes i do own a dictionary thank you very much mr oxford! Besides, i thought you hated francis?

**Monday, 8:46 PM**

**To: Alfred**

**From: Arthur is my bff**

I will have you know that I had to rely on the dreaded Internet in order to translate your message to English. Really, Alfred, maybe you should consider paying attention in your English class. For your information, Francis and I are not on the best of terms, but I am attending his party so that when he gets drunk and tries to flirt with Ivan, I can record the evidence and blackmail him.

P.S. The fact that you own a dictionary astounds me. In fact, I bet you took it from Matthew.

**Monday, 8:50 PM**

**To: Arthur is my bff**

**From: Alfred**

Are you serious? Even ivans going? NOT cooool! Im sure youre gonna get drunk first artie! ill tell mattie to make sure he gets that on tape! And "for your information," i have an A in english right now and i dont need you to help me! Good by your highness!

P.S. i most certainly did not take it from matthew! i took it from my parents bookcase, duuuuh!

**Monday, 8:54**

**To: Alfred**

**From: Arthur is my bff**

I honestly do not understand how you have such high grades. I assure you I will not get drunk, either, so watch yourself. Good night, Alfred.

Alfred threw his phone across the room to where it landed on a beanbag cushion next to his closet. He didn't understand Arthur. One moment, Alfred was sure the British boy liked him, but the next he was sending insults at ninety miles per hour. Alfred knew Arthur had a point. He didn't have any friends, did he?

_No_, Alfred thought. _Arthur's __always __right._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, so many alerts for this story already! I'm glad you guys seem to like it so much! So I bring you chapter two :D**

**As you may notice, some things in this story are very repetetive- and it's meant to be that way, so it's not like I did a terrible editing job (hopefully). Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Matthew bit his lower lip as he exited Alfred's room. He was acting strangely, but Matthew couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe Alfred was just having a bad day and didn't want Matthew to worry about it.<p>

But something in Matthew told him it was something else. Something he should worry about.

Maybe Arthur would know.

**Monday, 9:07 PM**

**To: Arthur**

**From: Matthew**

Hi Arthur, have you talked to Alfred lately?

**Monday, 9:10 PM**

**To: Matthew**

**From: Arthur**

Yes, I talked to him about fifteen minutes ago, why?

Fifteen minutes ago. Huh. Matthew frowned. That must have been right after he talked to Alfred about the party.

**Monday, 9:12 PM**

**To: Arthur**

**From: Matthew**

Oh, he's just been acting a little strange lately and I was wondering if you knew anything.

**Monday, 9:15 PM**

**To: Matthew**

**From: Arthur**

No, he was just being his usual annoying self. Maybe you should try talking to him, Matthew.

**Monday, 9:17 PM**

**To: Arthur**

**From: Matthew**

Okay, thanks

Matthew furrowed his eyebrows. He must be overreacting if Alfred's best friend said there was nothing wrong with him. Maybe he had walked in on Alfred when he was busy studying for a big test the next day. _Or__… __Or__…_ He sighed and crawled into his warm bed, clutching his stuffed polar bear Kumajirou close to him and sticking his nose in the bear's fur. In the morning, his brother would bounce back to his usual attitude.

* * *

><p>Arthur rolled his eyes at the text messages he was receiving from Alfred. He wasn't sure why Alfred hadn't been invited to Francis's party, but he didn't think much of it. Francis had probably forgotten the invitation or assumed Matthew would pass on the message.<p>

But Alfred had seemed quite upset that Arthur would rather go to Francis's house instead of spend time with his best friend. Not even upset- a bit put down.

Alfred would need to learn that Arthur had other priorities, too.

And then he got the messages from Matthew. So the younger twin thought there was something troubling his brother? Arthur hadn't noticed anything different when he spoke with Alfred, so he didn't press the subject any further. It was rude to pry, anyways.

It was hard to ignore the fact that Matthew thought there was something wrong with Alfred, however. Matthew never worried about Alfred. It was usually the other way around.

Alfred was probably having a bad day, Arthur decided. That's all. Matthew is just overreacting to everything. Everything would be better the next day.

* * *

><p>Or so they all thought.<p>

* * *

><p>"Alfred, can I copy your homework?"<p>

"Alfred, did you do the assignment?"

"Alfred, can you tell Braginsky that I went to the nurse so I can skip class?"

"Alfred. Alfred. Alfred Jones, answer me!" Alfred winced, finally acknowledging Arthur talking to him, looking quite irritated.

"Alfred, have you gone completely deaf?" the British boy scowled, glaring at Alfred. The latter forced a small, apologetic smile.

"Haha, sorry, Arthur, I kinda spaced out a bit…"

"You don't say," Arthur grumbled.

"What's up, Artie? Shouldn't you be in class? You don't usually look for me at this time. Is something wrong?" Alfred asked, wondering why his friend had come to see him. If he wanted something-

"Alfred… Are you alright?" Arthur murmured quietly. Alfred blinked in surprise at the question.

_No,_ he thought. _You __can __tell __him __the __truth. __You__'__re __not __alright._

"I'm fine." Lies. The lies were everywhere. All he could do was lie. It was the only thing he was good at.

"Uh, alright, then," Arthur said awkwardly, shifting the weight of his backpack to his other shoulder. "I have to get to class, so I guess I'll see you around, right?" he offered a smile, which Alfred returned.

"Yeah. See you soon."

_You had the chance. You could have told him._

_But you didn't think it mattered. Or he wouldn't care._

_Even if he is your best friend. Or so you thought._

_He should have pressed on._

The opportunity had been right there. He could have gotten all his problems off his chest. Arthur would have listened. Or would he? Arthur didn't make sure Alfred was okay.

* * *

><p>"Matthew, you've made sure that your brother isn't coming to my party, correct?" Matthew frowned ever so slightly at Francis. He still wasn't completely sure why his friend dreaded the idea of his brother attending the party. To be honest, it was bothering him quite a bit.<p>

"He's not going, but I don't see why you're so adamant about making sure I don't bring him along," Matthew said, trying his best to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Ah, don't you see? Er… Certain… People… are quite skeptical about his presence. And I myself have my reasons for not inviting him. But never mind that! That is not important," Francis said with a wink. Matthew's frowned deepened, but he said nothing.

"In that case, I'm not sure if I should go…" he eventually mumbled, so quietly that Francis almost didn't catch it. His eyes widened as he was quick to persuade Matthew to come.

"No! Matthew, you must attend! I assure you, it will be lots of fun! Besides, I'm sure Alfred has plenty of other friends he can hang out with!" Francis protested, placing a hand on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew shrugged it off. He knew they were all going to Francis's party, anyways.

Matthew sighed heavily, going over the choices in his head. His brother, or his friend? "Fine. But if you continue to talk about Alfred like that, you can forget it."

"Ah, of course," Francis agreed quickly.

"Good bye, Francis," Matthew said, walking away as fast as he could.

He had chosen his friend over Alfred.

* * *

><p>Alfred stared at his panicky reflection in the mirror, clutching the porcelain sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. Water trickled out of the faucet in a steady stream, stained red. Something made a clicking noise as it continued to hit the sides of the sink. There was fear in his wide eyes, and he couldn't look away from his face. He felt something warm flowing down his arms, dripping from his fingers, hitting the white sink and coloring it, no, anything but that, no, stop, what are you doing, nonononono-<p>

Arthur threw down his pen, frustrated with all the studying he had to do. He had finals in a week, and too much to study for. He thought of texting Alfred for a moment, but then decided against it.

Studying.

Arthur needed to study.

That's probably what Alfred was doing.

Everyone was studying now to cram in everything they forgot, and learn everything they were never taught.

He turned back to his physics notes, trying to focus on what he had written so many months ago and had long since forgotten. What did that say? Oh.

Arthur glared down at the thousands of papers in front of him, running a hand through his already messy blond hair. There were much better things he could be doing with his life. But he couldn't afford a bad grade on his exams- that would damage his perfect record. He couldn't have that.

So studying it was.

* * *

><p>Matthew glanced at Alfred's bedroom door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. Frowning, he pushed the door open, only to see that Alfred was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged, and noticed the light in the bathroom was on.<p>

Matthew closed his brother's door, and walked downstairs towards the kitchen. Looking through the pantry, he grabbed a bag of chips and a bottle of cold soda. Fuel for studying.

As he made his way back to his room, he was almost ran into Alfred, who had emerged from the bathroom. He almost dropped his food at the sight of Alfred's horrified face.

"A-Alfred?" Matthew whispered, worried. Immediately, Alfred's mouth turned up into a big smile that didn't quite reach his blue eyes.

"Hey, Mattie!" he said, waving slightly. His other arm was pressed to his stomach.

Matthew could tell that the enthusiasm was forced, but didn't understand why.

"A-are... Are you okay?" he managed to ask, scanning the older twin's face.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine! Don't worry about me, little bro, go back to your studies!" though Alfred tried to sound normal, but his voice was getting higher by the second, almost shrill.

Matthew frowned. "No you're not," he said, surprised by his own confidence.

"Of course I am! What makes you think I'm not?" Alfred didn't wait for an answer, before saying, "Hate to leave you on your own, but I gotta go study! You know, finals are next week!" he almost sprinted into his room, leaving Matthew standing in the hallway with his mouth slightly open, shocked.

_That __was __weird_, Matthew thought. But if his brother didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't push it. It probably wasn't any of his business. He often did have mood swings, after all.

* * *

><p>Back in his room, Alfred had to resist the strong urge to slam his head into the wall- then Matthew would come in, and not leave until Alfred told him what was wrong. Make him spill everything.<p>

Matthew.

Matthew.

Matthew.

He had been right there. Asking him what was wrong.

Alfred could have told him. Could have told him what he just did. Could have asked for help.

Could have.

Could have.

Could have.

But he hadn't.

Just like Arthur.

_Help me._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Look at me, updating on my birthday because I have no friends |D Sorry this took so long to get out, and it's not really anything super. For those of you following my other story, I'm really sorry about that. I have a huuuge writer's block right now D: Also, sorry for any typos in this chapter; I had to rush through editing in order to get it up on time. School starts tomorrow x_x I hope you all had a great holiday season! Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Jones."<p>

Alfred wheeled around the second he heard that voice, feeling like someone had dumped a handful of ice cubes down the back of his shirt.

"Braginsky," he said evenly. Not a fight, not here, not now, please-

"It's been a while," the tall boy said, leering down at Alfred, arms crossed over his giant chest. _Was it_ normal _to be that tall?_ Alfred wondered. The blond swallowed down the lump in his throat, resisting the urge to run away_. A hero never runs from his problems._

"You're right," he said quietly. "I bet you missed me."

Ivan snorted. "In your fucking _dreams,_ Jones. I've just wondered where you've been. School's been a bit... _boring_ without my favorite victim to play games with, if you know what I mean. And I'm sure that even someone as stupid as you would know." Ivan looked at his hand, picking mindlessly at one of his fingernails. Alfred couldn't help it; he winced. Without realizing it, he tugged at the cuffs of his long-sleeve shirt a bit.

"Yeah, well, you know. Things to do, places to go, people to see. People who actually want to see me." Ivan's head snapped up as he glared at Alfred, and the shorter boy's eyes widened. He almost clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he had just said. A huge _lie._

"Ah, are you trying to tell me-"

"_There _you are!" The new voice made both Ivan and Alfred jump and turn around, and Ivan began to panic ever so slightly.

"This isn't over, Jones," Ivan spat at Alfred.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Alfred countered, but it didn't come out as strong as he hoped.

"Ivan, I've been looking _everywhere _for you! Have you been avoiding me?" Ivan's face paled as his sister wrapped her slender arms around one of his own bigger ones.

"Of course not, Natalia, I, ah..."

"Come have lunch with me, big brother!" Natalia demanded, staring Ivan down. No one could make Ivan do anything he didn't want to do. Except for Natalia. Alfred stood where he was, not daring to breathe.

"O-okay," the tall boy sighed, letting his sister lead him to some deserted room in the building.

Once they were out of sight, Alfred finally relaxed, and almost collapsed against the nearest wall. _That had been so close._

He had gone and said something to piss off the Russian boy again, something that wasn't even true. Well, it was only partly true.

_Nobody wants to see me, either, _Alfred thought.

He looked down at his hands, covered by his dark blue sleeves. They were trembling so violently, that he had to sit on them to stop them from shaking. Alfred winced as he felt a piercing pain shoot up his arm.

_What have I done?_

* * *

><p>"Alfred?" Said boy looked up from his notes, seeing his brother poking his head through the doorway.<p>

"Hey, Mattie! Sup?" he put his papers down and sat up a bit in his bed.

"Dinner's ready. Mom wants you to set the table," Matthew said timidly.

Alfred quirked an eyebrow at his brother, but shrugged. "Sure thing."

Matthew nodded and retreated down the hall. Alfred sighed, pushing himself up.

* * *

><p>The smell of fried chicken wafted through the first floor, calling Alfred towards the kitchen.<p>

"Hi, Alfred," his mom said, not looking up from her frying pan. "Would you mind setting the table?"

"Yeah, no problem," Alfred said, slightly crestfallen. His mother hadn't even bothered to look at him, and this was the first time she had been home in days.

Taking out the utensils and napkins, Alfred placed them around the table. He made sure that every knife and every fork was evenly lined up. Wasting time.

* * *

><p>"Pass the platter of chicken, Alfred," his dad said, looking impatiently at his eldest son expectantly.<p>

Without a word, Alfred obliged, keeping his eyes on the plate in front of him.

"How was school, Matthew?" their father continued.

Matthew's ears turned slightly pink and he swallowed what he was chewing.

"Good," he said quietly.

"Good, good," their father said, returning to his food.

He had never seemed to be as fond of Alfred as he was as Matthew. Their mom was the same way, but she tried not to show it as much. Matthew knew it, too, but never said anything to them to make the favoritism stop.

Alfred bit the inside of his lip, but was silent.

* * *

><p>"H-hey, Mom?" Alfred said tentatively as he helped his mom clear the table after the meal.<p>

"Yes, what is it?" she asked, carrying a stack of plates to the kitchen. Alfred followed her, carrying the salad bowl.

"I was just wondering... Can I have my allowance a little bit early this month? I really need to go out and buy some new shirts," he said quickly.

"Didn't I just give you money two weeks ago?" she asked, frowning. "And didn't you spend it all on clothes?"

"Well... Yeah, but it's getting colder outside, and I don't really have many long-sleeve shirts," Alfred said, not looking his mother in the eye.

"You've never been one to really wear long-sleeve shirts," his mother mused, and Alfred tensed, not daring to move a muscle. "But I guess that's all right. You better watch what you're spending your money on this time, honey."

Alfred let out a small breath of relief.

"Thanks, mom, I will," he said. _But for how long will I have to worry about it?_

* * *

><p>Pulling his shirt over his head, Alfred hissed in pain as he pulled too hard on his sleeve. One of the bandages had started to peel and he had yanked it off on accident.<p>

His eyes widened as fresh blood started to trickle out of one the cuts.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, trying to look for something to use as a bandage. In his haste, he knocked a book off a shelf, and it hit the floor with a loud /thud/.

A moment later, someone was knocking on his door.

"Alfred?" he heard the voice of his mother on the other side.

"J-just a second!" he said, somewhat hysterically. Grabbing a black sweatshirt, he put it on quickly, then opened the door.

His mom looked him over, but didn't see anything to comment on.

"Here's the money you asked for," she said. "Remember, you're not getting anything until the end of next month," she reminded him.

"Thanks," he said, taking the money from her and shutting the door quickly. As soon as he was sure his mom was gone, he opened the door a bit again. Noticing the hall was clear, he dashed to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Grabbing the roll of bandages from the medicine cabinet, Alfred quietly applied a fresh layer of bandages around his arm, hissing softly as he applied too much pressure in the wrong places. It seemed like no matter how many times he had done this, he always did it wrong.

_It's because I need to stop._

As soon as he felt that everything had been fixed, Alfred put the bandages in his pocket, making sure it wasn't easily visible, and rolled down his sleeves that were slightly damp with blood so that they covered his arms completely. He flushed the toilet for good measure, and pretended to wash his hands before exiting the bathroom nonchalantly.

Better safe than sorry.

_Better safe than sorry._

_A hero always tries to save people. But sometimes the hero is the one who needs to be saved._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I only had an hour to write this Dx AND I GOT SEASON THREE IN THE MAIL TODAY. It wasn't supposed to be here until Wednesday :DDD So I'm off to go watch that and fangirl. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Alfred pulled the books he would need for his later classes out of his locker, then slammed the door shut. He didn't want to make another trip down that hall later on in the day- too many people he wanted to avoid at all possible costs. Looking around warily, Alfred noted that the hall was clear- for the time being. Quickly, he made his way down another hallway, getting faster and faster-<p>

"Alfred!" Said boy stopped dead in his tracks, feeling all color drain from his face. He had hoped to not be stopped by anybody, but as it seemed, his wish was not granted.

Slowly he turned around, bracing himself for any harsh words.

"Hi, Arthur," he said, faking a smile.

"Where are you going?" his friend demanded. "You haven't been at lunch all week, and I've been looking for you all day."

"I'm going to study, of course!" Alfred lied, shifting the weight of his backpack to his other shoulder.

"Bullshit," Arthur immediately replied. "You've been avoiding us. Matthew and I, at least." Alfred shuffled his feet a bit, uncomfortable with the glares he was receiving. He had been receiving them all too often lately, and he was tired of it.

"Arthur, I just want to study, okay?" Alfred sighed, trying to walk away, but was stopped when Arthur grabbed his arm.

"Alfred…" he started, searching the taller boy's blue eyes, clearly clouded with pain. "What's wrong?"

Alfred froze for a moment. He knew he could spill everything at last, get it all of his shoulders, tell his best friend all the secrets that he had been trying to keep- "Nothing," was what came out. "I'm fine." He pulled away from Arthur's grasp and continued down the hall, leaving the Brit with a stunned expression in the middle of the hallway, completely confused and worried.

_ Something's wrong, _he thought. _Something is horribly, horribly wrong._

* * *

><p>Matthew sighed in his seat, prodding at his pizza with a fork, not hungry. Arthur had stormed off earlier, declaring that he was going to go find Alfred, who hadn't shown up at lunch all week.<p>

He had thought his brother had been acting weird lately, but had decided that he was probably stressed out from studying so much- everybody was.

Matthew didn't really mind being alone. In fact, he rather liked it. But he couldn't help but feel like his only real friends had ditched him. Picking up his lunch, he threw it in the trash and decided to go to the library instead- get away from all the chatter around him and settle in the quiet.

Relief swept over him as he found the library almost completely silent, save for a few kids helping each other with homework. There were some open seats in the back of the library, close to the fireplace, right were Matthew liked to curl up and read whenever he didn't want to hang out with Arthur or Alfred in the cafeteria.

Taking out the book that he was reading for English, Matthew began to flip through the pages, when suddenly his phone started to vibrate and ring, causing him to jump and receive angry looks from the other people in the library, especially the librarian. He quickly out his phone on silent, but noticed that he had one new message from Arthur. Making sure the librarian was no longer looking at him, he flipped open his phone to read the message.

**Wednesday, 12:15 PM**

**To: Matthew**

**From: Arthur**

Where are you?

Sighing, he decided it would be best to answer, even if he didn't want to be found.

**Wednesday, 12:16 PM**

**To: Arthur**

**From: Matthew**

In the library. Did you find Alfred?

The quiet boy tried to read through more of his book while he waited for a reply, but his screen flashed again before he could even finish another paragraph.

**Wednesday, 12:17 PM**

**To: Matthew**

**From: Arthur**

I'll be there in a minute

Matthew frowned as the Brit hadn't answered his question, and now he wouldn't be able to finish reading.

Sure enough, Arthur had burst into the library moments later, locating Matthew right away and quickly striding over to sit next to the (slightly annoyed by now) boy.

"Did you find Alfred?" Matthew asked, keeping his voice down as not to bother the other people in the room.

"Yes," Arthur said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "But I hardly got more than five sentences out of him before he ran off somewhere else, not telling me anything. Apparently he's been 'studying,' but I don't believe it."

"Well, he has been spending a lot of time in his room lately," Matthew admitted. "Maybe he really has been studying."

"Maybe, but I really doubt it," Arthur fretted. "He's been avoiding me and whenever I try to talk to him he runs away."

"Excuse me, boys, but I'm going to have to ask you to quiet down or leave the library." Arthur and Matthew turned around to see a librarian standing behind them, arms crossed and a big from on her face.

"Sorry," they both said, and waited for her to leave before continuing their conversation.

"I don't know why he would have any reason to avoid you," Matthew whispered. "If it makes you feel any better, he hasn't said much to me, either."

"I just want to know what's wrong," Arthur said quietly.

"Don't stress yourself out over it. I'm sure he'll be back to himself once all these exams are over," Matthew assured the Brit.

"I sure hope so, Matthew," Arthur said, not so sure.

* * *

><p>"Arthur's worried about you, you know," Matthew confronted his brother after dinner. "He says you've been avoiding him."<p>

"That's not true, Mattie! Why would he be worrying about me?" Alfred laughed, patting his brother on the back. "Don't be ridiculous.

Matthew frowned. "Maybe you should try talking to him," the younger brother advised.

"Whatever, Mattie. Arthur's just being a worrywart. There's nothing for him to be so upset about. Now stop being uptight, or else you'll turn out to be just like him!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, smacking his brother on the side of the head lightly.

"Just talk to him, okay?"

"Sure thing!" Alfred agreed before the Matthew retreated to his room.

But both brothers knew one thing.

Alfred wouldn't come true to his promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Whoaaaaa, okay. Reeeaalllly late update. My apologies. x_x severe writer's block. I must also apologize for the very short, very poorly written chapter. And the story is actually wrapping up. I'd say no more than three chapters to go? Ahh, who knows. I appreciate all your lovely reviews and your patience. It's really heartwarming to read all the emails I get c: I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, and hopefully there will be an update soon? No guarantees Dx Enjoy!**

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><p>Alfred sighed as the last bell of the day rung throughout the school, signaling the end of the week. He didn't know whether or not to feel relieved, or frightened.<br>Tomorrow was the party. Tomorrow he would be alone.  
>He ignored the people around him as he walked down the hall slowly, avoiding eye contact with anyone and keeping entirely to himself. He didn't bother to wait for Arthur or Matthew so he could get a ride home; he could walk.<br>It wasn't like they wanted to go out of their way and give him a ride, anyway.  
>Matthew had told him earlier that morning that he had some "important matters" to take care of after school, and Alfred had just shrugged it off as usual.<br>If his brother had some other more important things to do, who was Alfred to stop him just for a ride home?

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><p>Arthur stood up and twisted a bit, successfully cracking his back. Satisfied, he picked up his bag from the floor and followed the twenty other students who were leaving the classroom.<br>Bubbling chatter filled the crowded hallways, kids sharing plans for the weekend, how they did on their math test earlier, or gossiping about the latest news.  
>He didn't bother to engage in any conversation, because he knew that most people would be talking about Francis's upcoming party.<br>A party he didn't particularly want to go to, but he had promised his friend he would show up to.

Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of Alfred leaving the building, but was in no mood for a conversation. His friend hadn't been very responsive lately, and he didn't want to fail at trying to get a response out again.

He waved at Matthew, who was talking to Gilbert, and pulled out his car keys; unlocking the doors as he exited the school.

It was strangely empty for a Friday, but then again, most people were still clumped together inside.

Arthur threw his bag in the back of the car before climbing in.

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><p>Kicking a pebble as he walked down the sidewalk, Alfred shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, not paying much attention to his surroundings. The sky was clear, the air warm, and the smell of grass wafted through the air. Most people would say it was a nice day out, perfect for spending time with friends. Alfred would say that it was the perfect day for being reminded that no one wanted to be around him. A year ago, he probably would have been doing what everyone else was doing.<p>

_But everything can change in a year._

Alfred laughed regretfully, kicking the pebble so hard that it flew off, somewhere he couldn't see it, and would never find it again.

He was like the pebble, in a way: kicked around, pushed away, never to be seen again. Gone.

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><p>"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"<p>

"Yeah, of course, Mattie! Can't wait till then!"

Matthew smiled and waved to Gilbert, who then left to go find his brother. Matthew had told his own brother that he had things to do- and he really had to get those done. In the time he had spent talking to Gilbert, the whole building had pretty much cleared out, and only a few people remained, milling about the almost empty hallways. He saw a couple of people in the library, catching up on work, researching, writing essays, or just reading. He had half a mind to join them, but he sighed as he remembered that he had errands to run.

Francis had asked him to pick up a couple of things for the party, and Matthew, being the kind person he was, had agreed- reluctantly, of course.

Luckily, the store was right down the street, and he could pick up what he needed in only a few minutes.

* * *

><p>Alfred sunk down onto his bed, burying his face in his hands. The room was dark, and the only light that filtered in was the cast by soft glow from the sun outside, hidden by the dark curtains. The house was dead silent. No one was home. The silence was deafening. It was painful. Alfred wanted to scream, but instead, he took a shuddering breath.<p>

Slowly, he stood up. Crossing the room and opening the door, he walked into the bathroom, not bothering to flip on the lights. In the cover of the complete darkness, he turned the sink faucet on, and splashed cold water on his face.

As he felt the water dripping from his hair onto his shirt, Alfred closed his eyes, gripping the sink. He hung his head, taking a deep breath.

His eyes snapped open as the floor began to shake. The garage door was opening. Someone was home. He darted across the hallway and back into his room, locking the door quietly before whoever was home came to check on him.

_Tomorrow,_ he thought. _It's going to be tomorrow._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh man, I sure am spoiling you guys. Two updates in two days? Maybe I'm just making up for the delay I've had lately... Well, this is another short chapter, but one of the most important ones. Next update will be longer, I promise. I'm just not sure when it's going to be up.**

**The feedback I got from the last chapter was incredible! ;w; I'm almost at 50 reviews already, and I appreciate every single one of you who has taken the time to read this~ I'm flattered that you like it so much! So, here's the next chapter! :D**

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><p>Tapping his pencil anxiously against his chair, Alfred stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him, trying to figure out how he was going to form his thoughts into words. Words that could be read in the form of a letter- the last thing he would ever write.<p>

He had made his decision before he went to bed the night before: when Matthew left to go to Francis's party, he was going to do what he should have done several months ago.

Their parents had gone out for the night and wouldn't be returning until much later in the evening, and Alfred could hear Matthew searching for appropriate clothes to wear in the room next to him. Suddenly everything was silent, and moments later he heard a quiet knock on his bedroom door.

"Alfred?"

Alfred jumped out of his chair, nearly knocking it over in his haste to get to the door and opening it for his brother, who looked slightly frazzled.

"Hey, Mattie," he said, a sad smile on his face as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Uh… Is everything okay?" Matthew asked tentatively, noticing his brother's sloppy appearance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alfred lied smoothly.

"Okay, well, I'm heading out to Francis's now. I'll see you in a few hours, yeah?"

"Right," Alfred said, a pang of sadness making his stomach churn. "I'll see you later." Before his brother could turn and walk away, Alfred grabbed him and pulled him into a big hug, burying his face in his brother's shoulder.

"A-Alfred?" Matthew asked, surprised.

"Hey, I love you, little bro, you know that, right?" Alfred asked quietly, winking playfully.

"O-of course," Matthew said, confused.

"Then go out and have a great time. Come home safely. Don't do drugs. Don't have sex. Don't get drunk."

"Alright… Bye, Alfred."

Alfred watched his brother descend the staircase sadly, knowing that it would be the last time his brother ever saw him. He quickly wiped the tears forming in the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, and shut the door quietly.

* * *

><p>"Hello? Francis? Yes, I can hear you- no, get out of that room, the music is too loud, you idiot!" Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, listening to the French boy babbling on the other line. "Yes, yes, I know- hold on, someone else is calling-" he checked the caller ID and rolled his eyes. "Never mind, it's just Alfred. What were you saying? Yes, alright, I'll get it, I'll be there soon, okay, bye." He sighed as he hung up and snapped his cell phone shut loudly.<p>

Lacing up his shoes quickly, he grabbed his car keys from the counter and smoothed his shirt down. It may not have been a party he wanted to go to, but there was no way he would get caught looking like he had just crawled out of bed- which he most certainly _hadn't._

* * *

><p>Alfred sighed, putting his phone back on his desk as he got the busy tone for the third time. If Arthur wasn't going to pick up his phone, that wasn't his problem. He had hoped that maybe, maybe he would get to speak with his best friend one last time. It might not be in person, but it would have to do. He ran a hand through his already ruffled and messy hair and let out a long, shuddering breath.<p>

Picking up his phone once more, he began to write out a new message, carefully choosing the right words.

**Saturday, 7:51 PM**

**To: Artie is my bff**

** From: Alfred**

I understand if you can't talk. Just wanted to say it was great knowing you. Thanks for everything. Goodbye.

Fingers twitching and hitting all the wrong buttons, at last he hit 'send' and turned the phone off, placing it carefully back on his clean desk. With a shaking hand, he opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the bottle of pills he had kept in there and twisted the cap off, looking into it with scared, wide eyes.

It was now or never.

Without hesitating, he took a few of the pills and downed them, shutting his eyes as he felt them slide down his throat.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Oops, hope you guys didn't forget about me. Sorry for getting this out so late, but things have been busy around here. Fun fact: Newt Gingrich came to my school today. How about that? Anyways, I was so amazed by the number of reviews for the last chapter! We've hit over 50, folks! :D Thank you to everyone who's read this, favorited, alerted, reviewed- you're all amazing! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Just a heads up, it may be a litttle bothersome to some people, and I'm sorry if I didn't portray this exactly as it would be in real life. Just try to imagine what Arthur and Alfred are going through at the moment, okay? Enjoy!**

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><p>"Oh my god," Arthur whispered, eyes widening. He paled and clutched the steering wheel with one hand, his phone in the other. "Oh, my fucking god."<p>

A car honked behind him, but Arthur hardly heard it. Not even bothering to check if it was safe, he turned into another street and quickly sped up. Only one thing mattered: he needed to get to Alfred as quickly as possible.

Dialing his friend's number into his phone, he pressed it to his ear, waiting as it went straight to voicemail.

"God damn it, Alfred!" He threw the phone on the seat and stepped harder on the gas pedal. He wasn't far from Alfred's house, but he wasn't sure how much time he had left, if any. "This must be a joke," he tried to laugh, but it came out as a whimper instead.

Maybe he was just overreacting.

But something had been wrong with Alfred lately, and now he was pretty sure what it was.

At long last, the house came into view, and once he parked, Arthur wasted no time in jumping out the car and running to the front door.

Locked.

He cursed, and thought for a moment, then ran to their garage. He punched in the code and the door started to open, emitting a loud groaning noise. Luckily, he still remembered the code Alfred's mother had given him a few years ago, and luckily, they hadn't changed it.

Arthur dashed up the stairs, noticing all the lights were off. He didn't pause to turn them on, but instead burst into Alfred's room.

What he saw almost made him faint.

Blood streamed from Alfred's arms onto the floor, where pills of various sizes and colors were scattered around. Alfred looked up, face full of surprise, and tears running down his face.

"Arthur-"  
>"Alfred, what the hell have you done?" Arthur nearly shrieked. "What- what the hell is this? Oh my god! Did you-"<br>"Arthur, it's too late. I've already taken the pills," Alfred said quietly.

"No! Alfred, what? No, it's not too late! Throw them up, you can still do it!"  
>Alfred shook his head sadly, and it took all his self-restraint to keep Arthur from crying.<p>

"There's no point," Alfred said sadly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "No one would care whether or not I lived." Arthur let out a shaky sob and ran over to his friend, pulling him into a big hug and squeezing him so tightly he heard Alfred gasp.

"That's not true and you know it!" Arthur protested.

"Don't lie, Arthur. You and I both know it. No one cares about me anymore. I'm not important. I'm just a burden. I make everyone's life miserable."

"Alfred-"

"I'm annoying. I was too conceited. I thought I was better than everyone. I was wrong."

"Alfred," he said, taking his friend's face between his hands. "Listen to me, listen to me right now. That's not true at all. So many people would care if you died right now, believe me. Please, Alfred, just… Come on, we need to go to the bathroom."

"It's all an act," Alfred whispered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "A big act that's been going on forever. It's a game. And they've won."

"The game's not over yet," Arthur whispered, looking at Alfred straight in the eye. "They haven't won yet. There's still time to show them you're better than what they want you to be."

Alfred let out a shaky sob and pulled Arthur to him again, clutching his shirt as he shook violently.

"Arthur," Alfred, whispered, "I don't feel good." And he ran out of the bedroom.

Arthur sunk down on Alfred's bed, burying his face in his hands. His shirt and arms were spotted with blood, and he felt the tears really start to flow.

Shaking his head, he got up and forced himself to walk to the bathroom, bracing himself for whatever he might find.

What he did see surprised him.

Alfred was on the floor, holding his knees tightly to his body, shaking and sobbing.

Arthur sank down next to him, and pulled the other boy into a hug, wrapping his arms firmly around Alfred. He rubbed his friend's hair as Alfred sobbed and grasped the fabric of Arthur's shirt in his hands once more.

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered between sobs. "I'm so sorry."  
>"Shh," Arthur said, rubbing his friend's back. He wasn't sure what to say; he was still in shock.<p>

"I-I'm sorry I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for being so worthless and annoying and bothering you all the time, but I just wanted you to n-notice me," he hiccupped. "You've always been my best friend, and I was s-scared you'd leave me, t-too."

Arthur's eyes widened and he froze. That explained everything.

"Alfred, you've always been my best friend, and always will be. Nothing's going to change that," he whispered.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred said, looking at Arthur with misty eyes.

"What is it?"

"I'm feeling kind of… sleepy," he said, before he fainted.

"Oh shit, oh, fuck," Arthur breathed, searching for his phone in his pocket. Mentally kicking himself for leaving it in the car, he dashed to Alfred's parents' room, and picked up the phone on the nightstand, immediately dialing 911.

"I need an ambulance down here," he said quickly. "My friend just swallowed a bunch of pills- what? No, I think he threw them up, but he just passed out… Yes, please just hurry, okay?" He hung up the phone, hurrying back to Alfred. He noticed that both of their shirts were stained red, and swore. Going into Matthew's room (he didn't want to go back in to Alfred's room), he pulled out two clean shirts from the closet. Disposing of his own dirty one and changing, he brought the second shirt to Alfred, who was still out cold. Carefully, he removed Alfred's blood-soaked shirt and gingerly tugged the new one on, being careful of his still bleeding arms.

Moments later, he heard the sound of a siren, getting louder and louder, until it was right outside the house. Arthur ran downstairs to let them in, and several men ran into the house carrying a stretcher. Arthur led the way upstairs, showing them where his friend was. They were quick and pulled him on the stretcher, carrying him downstairs carefully.

One man stayed behind, and Arthur knew he would have questions.

"Boy, what happened here?"

"Please, sir, he's in trouble- it's bad, he needs to get to the hospital now, and I have to go with him. I'll answer all your questions, I promise, but please, can we go to the hospital first?"

The man's face softened.

"Alright," he said, and Arthur sighed in relief. "I don't know exactly what happened here, but I'm sure it's been hard on you. Hurry up and get downstairs so they don't leave without you."

'Thank you, sir, thank you so much," Arthur said, dashing down the stairs to make it to the ambulance before it left.

As Arthur hopped in, one of the men in the vehicle shut the door behind him, and they ambulance started to pick up speed.

Arthur could only let out a shaky breath as he finally took in the scene in front of him: Alfred could die any minute, and there was nothing he could do. All along, he hadn't realized that he had all been a part of this big game.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Uhh, yeah. I guess I owe you all an explanation. I've been super busy with the end of the year, and have had no motivation to write. I kinda wrote this on a whim, but I've been planning it foreverrrr. It's sort of rushed and maybe a bit OOC, but I'm sure you can understand why. I think this is going to be the last chapter, but you can definitely expect one more update, which will probably be an epilogue. No guarantees on when I'll update. Today was the last day of school but I still have three days of finals and then summer school. BUT! The reviews I've gotten for this story have just blown me away. There are so many, and they're all so kind. Thank you so much for sticking with me through all of this! I love you all!**

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><p>Hours. That's how long Arthur had been in the waiting room. He had tried to sit, but gave up in less than five minutes when he received angry glares from the other people in the room. Tapping your feet isn't appreciated, apparently. He resorted to pacing; looking up at the big clock so often that it didn't seem to be moving.<p>

Funny thing, time is. In a hospital, ticking away the seconds until any one of the patients in the building could die. For everyone who knew the person, time would seem to stop. Everything would be over. How would they go on? But time goes on. It goes on for everybody else. While people are dying, and while Arthur was desperately pacing the room, waiting for news of his friend, other people were having fun and living their lives. Doing stupid things. Arthur scowled, glancing up at the clock again.

"Mr. Kirkland?" Arthur whipped around, scowling at a nurse with a clipboard. "Please, come with me," she said, ignoring his expression. Arthur lost the scowl in favor for an expression of worry once more, and quickly followed the nurse. They walked down a hallway, turning into another hallway, until she stopped in front of a door.

"Sir, your friend is in here. I must warn you, he's not in the best condition. But he should make it." Arthur nodded impatiently. 'Should' didn't sound so positive. "His parents are in there and they wanted to talk to you."

"O-okay," Arthur said, getting nervous. He should have known Alfred's parents would have been called immediately.

"One more thing. What you did earlier was a brave thing. You saved this young man's life, and that was a very noble deed."

"W-well, he is my best friend," Arthur muttered, looking at the ground. She was right. He had saved Alfred's life.

"Why don't you go on in and check on him?" she suggested, smiling softly.

"Yes, thank you," Arthur nodded, quietly pushing the door open. Alfred's parents looked up from their son's bedside, and his mother shot up and ran over to Arthur.

"Oh, sweetheart, thank you so, so much," she said, pulling Arthur into a big hug. "I don't know what happened, and I don't expect you to tell me everything right now. I know this is hard for you too, but thank you," she said, crying into his shoulder. Alfred's father had come up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, thank you. The doctors already talked to us, but no one knows the full story. Right now, that's not important. What's important is that Alfred is okay thanks to you. We'll let you have some alone time with him now, but he hasn't woken up since he got here."

"Thank you, Arthur said quietly. "I'm sorry for everything you're going through right now," he said.

"It would be a lot worse if it wasn't for you. True, this… is probably the hardest thing we've ever had to go through, and there's still a lot to do. But thank you." Alfred's father nodded and led his crying wife out of the room.

Arthur was left alone in the dimly lit room with nothing but the sound of quiet breathing and beeping heart monitors. He looked over to the bed where his best friend was, and slowly walked over to it. Sitting down on one of the chairs, he noticed Alfred's glasses sitting on the nightstand.

Taking one look at his best friend's face, looking so young, was all it took to send Arthur to tears again. Before he knew it, small teardrops dotted the sheets, and Arthur had to wipe his watery eyes.

"God damn it, Alfred. Always doing the stupidest things. You never know what you're getting into because you never realized how much everybody loves you." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, biting back his sobs and burying his face in the sheets.

"Hey, Arthur, did I make you cry again?" Arthur's head shot up, and he looked at Alfred, whose cerulean eyes were barely open.

"Alfred?"

"Like that one time in first grade when I pushed you down a slide. Or in seventh grade, when I stole your science project." He let out a weak laugh, and Arthur just gaped at him. "Or last night, or was it a week ago…?" Alfred sighed.

"Al…"

"That wasn't my best move, was it?" he asked, closing his eyes again.

"Probably the stupidest thing you've ever done in your entire life," Arthur admitted.

"Sorry about that," Alfred whispered.

"You better be," Arthur murmured.

Alfred just hummed in response.

"Hey, Artie?" Alfred said after a long pause.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sleepy," Alfred said, hardly moving his lips. "Don't tell anyone I woke up, okay?"

"Sure, but if they find out, I don't think they'll be so happy," Arthur said tentatively.

"Oh well. Stay with me, will you?" he asked, his breathing evening out again. Slower, steadier.

"Always," Arthur whispered, his eyes never leaving Alfred's face. "You can always count on me to be here."

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><p>One week later saw Alfred being pushed out of the hospital on a wheelchair, grumbling about how he didn't need his help. Of course, his brother ignored him because when Alfred had tried to walk out earlier, he had almost fallen on the ground. No more arguments.<p>

Arthur had hardly left the hospital, even to eat. Alfred's parents were the same, yet they left more often to get food to bring to Arthur.

It had been a quiet week. Arthur had left the room again once Alfred had woken up for a second time to give his family some privacy. Matthew had come soon after Alfred had woken up for the first time, in a full state of panic. He had been distraught that no one had called him right away.

Alfred never really spoke unless it was just Arthur in the room, but even then it was still cautious. Neither one wanted to say the wrong thing.

There was a long way to go. Both of them knew it. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but they would make it work. After all, what are best friends for?


End file.
